Poetry

Foreign Fields

By 17th November 2013December 9th, 2019No Comments

The morning mist surrounds my world
As cordite fills the air
Can I stand another day
Or will I just despair

Exploding shells are all around
My mates are falling fast
I do not think their gallantry
Could ever be surpassed

Whistles blow it’s time to go
To save or seal my fate
Will I see tomorrow’s dawn
Or stand at heaven’s gate

Through the deadly hail of lead
We play this game of chance
To do or die for all we’re worth
Among the fields of France

In the many years to come
Remember us with pride
Remember us forever more
It was for you we died

David Thompson

Author David Thompson

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